


Coping

by jvnsen



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Depressed Dean, Depression, Gen, Hurt No Comfort, Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-04
Updated: 2016-11-04
Packaged: 2018-08-28 23:14:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8466670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jvnsen/pseuds/jvnsen
Summary: Dean is alone.





	

Dean is alone.

Sam is always by his side - at least, when he doesn’t decide to leave and get a dog or whatever. You get the point. He travels with Sam, he lives with Sam, he knows just how to push Sam’s buttons and what to do to make him feel better.

Cas is around sometimes, too. He’ll pop up out of nowhere and stay for a few days, and that’s nice. Dean likes the extra company, likes having someone else to hang out with for a while because he loves Sam, but spending that much time with someone makes it impossible for them not to get on your nerves. 

But he’s alone.

He has this ache in his chest, and it’s this loneliness that physically hurts. He’ll put his hand to his chest sometimes and wonder how an emotion can manifest into the worst pain he’s felt all week, including the bullet that grazed his arm three days ago.

He doesn’t know exactly what he’s even looking for. He doesn’t know why he feels like this. He has people, he has family. He has a whole lot more than some other people do. People care about him and they love him and it doesn’t matter because the loneliness doesn’t go away.

He drinks, he fucks, he eats, he hunts, and nothing helps.

One day, he’s cleaning the weapons.

Blades, guns, the works, because it’s a day where they have nothing to hunt and it needs to be done sometime.

The blade he’s cleaning nicks him.

It’s barely anything, but the blood bubbles up and it’s -

It’s different.

It’s not the same as getting hurt on a hunt. He doesn’t know how to describe it - both end with him being hurt, bloody, but this is different.

He takes the blade and this time, purposefully, drags it against his wrist. Just a little bit, a little deeper.

It’s good. He sighs, and he concentrates on the blood and the sting and the throbbing of his wrist. 

For once, he doesn’t think about the ache that comes from inside of him.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this in 5 minutes and didn't read it back over. I wrote it as therapy for myself and just wanted somewhere to post it.


End file.
